The blindfold was tight over Renji's eyes, shutting out everything. No light. No shapes. Just pitch black.
He stood still for a moment, listening. The wind rustled faintly across the field, the sound of shifting feet on the grass — shallow breathing, someone stretching their fingers. The world had become sound and sensation alone.
"Trust your instincts," Seiji Nakamura [Old Legend]'s voice cut through the air, calm and steady. "Football isn't just about what you see. It's about what you feel — the presence of your teammates, the movement of the ball, the flow of the game itself."
Renji took a slow breath.
"Begin!"
The sharp blow of the whistle rang out — and the drill started.
The sound of the ball's impact on someone's foot cracked through the air. Renji strained his senses, following the sound. A pass. Light footsteps — the ball shifted again. He stayed still, waiting.
Where's it going…?
Another kick — the ball zipped across the field. Renji turned his body toward the sound, his muscles coiled and ready. But the ball didn't come to him.
"Too slow," Nakamura's voice came from somewhere ahead. "You're listening only for the ball. That's not enough."
The drill continued. The ball kept moving — quick, short passes mixed with longer drives. Renji caught the flow of the game, but he couldn't quite enter it.
Every time he moved, the ball had already gone. Every time he reached, it slipped away.
Frustration built.
"Why can't I—"
A touch on his shoulder stopped him.
"Relax," Nakamura said quietly. "Stop chasing the ball."
Renji's fists clenched. "How am I supposed to—"
"Feel the space," Nakamura interrupted. "The ball is only one part of the field. Listen to the footsteps. The breathing. The wind. Every movement leaves a mark. You can't see it — so sense it."
Renji forced himself to calm down. He let the noise settle around him.
Footsteps. Fast — coming from the left. A quick pivot. A sudden stop.
He turned his head slightly, following it. That was Shindo. His movement was always sharp and fast.
A lighter step — controlled, patient. Mori.
And the ball — the faintest scrape of leather on grass. It passed again — but this time, Renji didn't chase it. He tracked the players instead.
Then he felt it.
A gap.
He moved.
His foot connected with the ball.
The moment was so brief it almost didn't seem real. But there it was — the soft thud of the ball meeting his boot. He had intercepted the pass.
"Well done," Nakamura's voice came again. "Now… keep it up."
An Hour Later
The blindfold drill continued.
Renji was adapting — slowly, but surely. He wasn't perfect, but his body was learning to respond to the field's rhythm.
"Alright," Nakamura called. "Switch partners. We move to one-on-one battles."
Renji's blindfold stayed on. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Light, almost casual. A lazy rhythm — but Renji knew better than to trust that.
"Kazuya Mori," Renji said, his voice low.
A quiet chuckle. "You finally noticed."
The whistle blew — and Mori attacked.
Renji had no time to react. The ball was already gone — a blur of sound, moving too fast. Mori's steps shifted — closing in from the right — no, the left.
He's too quick—
A sudden burst of air — and the ball was behind Renji. Mori's footsteps slowed.
"Still not fast enough," Mori's voice teased.
Renji gritted his teeth.
But as the drill continued, Renji pushed harder. Every miss sharpened his focus. Every failure taught him something new. And slowly — painfully — he closed the distance.
Later That Night — Dining Hall
Renji barely touched his food. His body ached from the day's training, and his mind was still running through every mistake he'd made. Every missed step. Every failed block.
"Yo, Renji!" Reiji Sakamoto clapped him on the back. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Or maybe he's become one," Kaede Arata teased.
Renji forced a smile. "Just tired."
"How's training with Nakamura?" Riku Saionji asked, leaning forward. "He's supposed to be the best, right?"
"He is," Renji admitted. "But it's… different. He's teaching us how to see without seeing."
Kaede blinked. "Huh?"
"Blindfolded drills," Renji explained. "It's about reading the field without your eyes."
"That sounds insane," Reiji said. "And kinda terrifying."
"It is," Renji said, his mind drifting back to the field. "But it's working."
He was getting closer. He could feel it.
But there was still so far to go.
(To be continued…)